Page 41 of When She Needs Them Most
My insides light up. It’s clear I’m a very stereotypical omega. The only thing that would be more tempting would be to cuddle in a confined space, like a nest, but the sofa sounds heavenly.
“Yeah, absolutely,” I agree.
Kase snatches the papers, tosses them on the bed, and wraps his hand in mine. He proceeds to tug me toward the door to the sound of Linc’s amused chuckle.
Chapter Seventeen
Arden
I’m not sure what they’ve done, but my packmates are hiding something. The bastards. They’re not good at subterfuge, either. Okay, that’s highly inaccurate. Professionally speaking, they’re adept. In our personal lives as friends and packmates, Lincoln is generally more skilled than Kason, but he’s doing no better at the moment.
Neither will meet my line of sight, and neither fights me for the seat next to Chelsea. Kase does slide into the chair on her other side, but I’m genuinely surprised it’s not an all-out shoving match to secure the position.
The restaurant I picked up dinner from offers a variety of cuisine, from steaks, to pasta, to seafood dishes. I stayed away from the latter when ordering, simply because I know how smells can affect pregnant women.
Chelsea is on my right, which makes it easy to place my hand on her thigh as I use my left to offer her a bite of the steak that she eyed but assured me she didn’t have room for.
Her cheeks turn pink, but she doesn’t protest. I’m as equally enamored by the way her thick lips wrap around the tines on the fork as I am by the way she looks in Lincoln’s clothing. Placing the fork down, I collect a napkin and brush it over the edgeof her mouth. Her scent is indescribable with that electric buzz that makes me ache to caress her skin with mine. It also holds unmistakable tinges of Kase and Lincoln.
My fingers brush over the material of Linc’s sweats as I give her thigh a squeeze.
“How about a bite of garlic mashed potatoes? Or would you prefer the fettuccine Alfredo?” I ask, collecting my fork once more.
Chelsea twists to study my face with a shy smile tugging at her lips. “I can feed myself. I’m sure you’re hungry after a long day at work.”
Moving my chair closer to hers, I relocate my right arm to wrap around the back of her chair. My hand falls to rest on her shoulder, and I get very close to her ear. “I know you can, but it brings me immense satisfaction to feed you by my hand.”
Lincoln snorts. “Immense satisfaction.That was actually smooth.” He kicks Kase’s foot under the table. “Take notes.”
Kase raises a hand, flipping off our packmate.
Chelsea ignores their antics, instead staring at me. Her blonde lashes flutter as she shrugs. “Far be it from me to take that joy away from you.” Her left hand comes to rest on my thigh, and she gives a tender squeeze. “Fettuccine would be perfect. I’m not sure I’m prepared to have garlic breath.”
Nodding, I collect her next bite while fantasizing frivolous thoughts, such as she doesn’t want questionable breath, because she plans to offer me a goodnight kiss. Extending the pasta toward her, I revel in the warmth that fills my chest as she carefully snags the noodles off the fork.
I’ve never felt such an all-encompassing need to care for another human being. There’s no telling how she’ll view us once she learns what we do for a living, and I begin to wonder if it’s necessary that she ever finds out.
Lincoln, Kase, and I gravitated together some seven or eight years ago. Easton had just started Shadow Security—a front for the true contracts the company manages—and he needed a cleanup crew he could trust.
Not all mercenaries are created equal, and Shadow Security employs some of the most ruthless contract workers in the country. The individuals that the other companies pass over, because they take to the work a little too well. When that type of person stops following the rules, they’re a next-level threat that must be neutralized.
That’s where we come in.
On occasion, an employee will cross the line—the one they can’t come back from. That, or they have a full disconnect with reality and have to be put down.
Initially, Linc, Kase, and I were working as a team, similar to all the others, but Easton tapped us in when a particularly dangerous team went rogue. Rather than honoring the contract they were assigned, they took a payday to flip on the client, murdering not only him but also his wife, eleven-year-old son, and nine-year-old daughter.
It took three weeks of searching and a trip to Argentina, but we located the team of four and put them down, exactly as they deserved. Easton’s one request was that we make it brutal enough to put the fear of God into anyone else who might consider flipping for a payday.
Since then, we’ve been called in at least once a year to tidy up loose ends on a team that no longer plays by the rules. We also take the occasional kill contract, like the other teams, but we could live out the rest of our days keeping up a more than generous lifestyle without ever taking another job.
Hell, we could focus on installing the security systems that Shadow Security uses as a front.
I’m not sure how the three of us would adapt to a fully subdued lifestyle, but even in the last year or two, we’ve cut back to only quarterly contracts. The more I think about it, the more my resolve strengthens.
Chelsea and the baby need a safe environment to thrive. She won’t handle it well if we have to be away for two or three weeks every few months, with only flimsy excuses on why she can’t come with us.
I glance between Lincoln and Kase. The three of us need to have an important conversation about the future. The prospect of building a family with Chelsea trumps the euphoria I get from hunting a target.
